route_1065 | If I'm not the type of guy you'd like to circumvent, just remember not to love me when I disappear

Entry tags:

If I'm not the type of guy you'd like to circumvent, just remember not to love me when I disappear

Who: Emmy Altava (

snapandscoot); Solf J Kimblee (

explosivecombat)
Where: Goldenrod City
When: The evening of the 22nd
Summary: Completely innocent not-date between friends. Completely innocent. Because it's not like Kimblee's been in the doghouse lately or anything.
Rating: Most likely PG/PG-13 at the highest
Log:

There were days when it paid off well to be living in a region that changed its fashion sense maybe once every two or three years at the fastest and had a department store with an entire section devoted to capes, of all things; Kimblee hadn't exactly been optimistic when he had returned to a store he had last had reason to visit last February, and he hadn't exactly been looking forward to it in any way, either. He had been born upper-class and as such had never felt out-of-place, exactly, in high-end boutiques, but this was the sort of place that was made of entirely too many frills and jeweled things and lacy things and...things he admittedly had no idea what to do with; it was the sort of place where the fondest memories he had of such places in Amestris was finding another guy in the shop, usually sitting outside the fitting rooms, girlfriend's purse firmly in hand and bored look firmly on face - the unspoken conversations carried on with such people, conveyed through expression and soft tilts of the head, were often entertaining enough in their own right to alleviate the monotony somewhat.

He hadn't expected the trip here with Emmy last February to be any better, but her enthusiasm had made the shopping...surprisingly more tolerable; he had been able to tell that this was mostly, if not entirely, a new experience for her, judging by all the excitement over the dresses and the way she seemed to be determined to move like a lady but couldn't quite contain the urge to put just a bit more sway in her walk for the sake of feeling the skirts swish around, and how she didn't seem able to keep herself from twirling a bit in front of the mirrors while asking his opinion.

It had been, for lack of a better term, completely adorable.

There had been other things Kimblee had noticed, however, namely the way she had rather seemed to enjoy a rather extravagant number, warm-colored and quite frankly pulling out all of the stops in terms of formal wear in general. She had taken it into the fitting rooms one last time before making her selection, and then she'd surprised him by selecting another dress entirely; the hesitation in her voice had been almost entirely absent when he'd asked her if she was sure. He hadn't argued the point at the time, but his suspicions had been confirmed when the price was - the one she had selected had been rather less expensive.

Again, however, that had been in February; he was pleased to find the shop still carrying that particular extravagant style months later, in June. Given that it was Johto, he wasn't exactly surprised, but just the same, it made his life just that much easier. He'd sent a message out to Emmy upon purchasing the thing, asking her to clear some time in her schedule for the evening - he would like to take her to dinner, for the sake of catching up; he was punctual, garment bag draped loosely over his arms.

Their last conversation had left reason for Kimblee to believe that she was displeased with him, but his demeanor was casual despite that as he knocked to let her know he'd arrived, shifting the garment bag a bit to do so before resettling. He was dressed far differently than usual himself, having abandoned the usual white-and-pastels in favor of something far darker, the black suit and shirt accented just slightly with the deep purple of the tie. It was classy without being flashy; when one accompanied someone wearing a dress like what he had purchased for Emmy, it was primarily their job to be an accessory, and he was perfectly content with that.

Assuming, of course, this went over well in the first place.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"...it was a bit of a shock, yes, but moreso because...."

Emmy slowly refilled her wineglass, but only to the half-way point. With any luck, she wouldn't feel the need to drain it again.

"....well, I heard those promotions were incredibly hard to get without...a lot of work."

"...normally, that would be the case, yes."

He had been right; there was not nearly enough alcohol in his system right now. He refrained from consuming any more of it, however; again, he was fully aware that his impulse control was horrible, and introducing substances of any sort was a generally bad idea right now.

"However, it seems that Archer is incredibly pleased with how much our friendship seems to be improving; he's happy that I'm in the organization with him, and as he was in line for quite the promotion himself, he put in a word for me. Or, well, I suppose it was closer to several words - he gave me credit for assisting him with several missions he had undertaken alone, some of which I hadn't even been aware that he was behind. He arranged for me to speak to some of our superiors privately; they offered me the promotion shortly after. I saw it as an opportunity, Miss Altava; I have more access to information this way, and those higher up the chain of command will be a bit more willing to listen to me now. I don't have much yet, but it's improvement."

Emmy listened quietly as Kimblee spoke, wine momentarily forgotten. Instead, she looked at her fingers, absorbing everything he was saying. It made sense. It made so much sense. In a way, it was very comforting.

"So Archer pushed to get you promoted along with him. Well, knowing him, that does make a lot of sense."

And that was that! Archer pushed the team to get Kimblee promoted along with himself. End of story.

...if only. She knew she couldn't just leave it there; it was cowardly. Descole had given her more information than just that, and what if he'd had to take risks to get it? What if giving it to her was a risk in itself? How could it not be?

No. She owed it to him, and herself, to follow every lead.

"....could you tell me about the high-ranked woman in the back of the transport vehicle?"

Kimblee paused for a moment, staring; he had a decent idea as to why she would be asking him about that, and he didn't particularly care for it. However, he managed to collect himself reasonably quickly.

"She isn't the leader of the organization - that particular individual has yet to make him- or herself known to the rest of us. She holds the rank of 'Executive,' however, and from what I understand she isn't to be trifled with. She seemed to be in charge of assignments; I was talking to her in the back at one point to try to get a better idea of what Team Rocket is doing as a whole. What the endgame is, so to speak. She was authoritative but polite and she answered my questions directly, but she wasn't forthcoming with information."

He paused for a brief moment, drumming his fingertips lightly against the table; it wasn't an agitated motion, just something to occupy himself with while he thought.

"However, she responds well enough to flattery and subservience to listen to requests and concerns; she was willing to engage me in discussion about things of that nature even before my promotion, though she was decidedly harder to get access to. I've no doubt that I could get on her good side; she seemed to be warming up to me reasonably well despite the lack of information regarding the ultimate goal. It won't be an immediate thing, but I'm fairly sure I could get information out of her."

Another sigh.

"So...why didn't you tell us you had access to someone so powerful? That mission was well over a month ago and...I've heard nothing about it from you. Not what it involved, not what you had to do, and nothing about the fact that you were specifically summoned to talk to this Executive woman."

Running her fingers through her hair, Emmy tried to remain reasonable and calm. Getting angry would do neither of them any favours. The best way to approach this would be as adults, not children screaming and trying to shove the blame onto the other person.

"I just...you have to understand my point of view, Mr Kimblee. I'm not trying to attack you or accuse you of anything, but...these are all things I would have much rather heard from you, but I've gotten nothing. I want to work together with you, but I can't if you don't tell me anything."

"And when, exactly, do you propose that I should have told you about this? We haven't spoken in person for quite some time, Miss Altava, and I've already made it plain that I can't tell you these things over the device."

"....well, you...could have arranged to meet with me. I can't talk to my other informant over the Gear but he manages to find a way to contact me. I just...this is important information, Mr Kimblee. I just thought you might...maybe find it worth passing on to me so we could make a plan. That's all."

This was already going bad. But to her credit, she was staying calm and ladylike. Maybe the dress was good for something after all.

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind, Miss Altava. But I must admit that I find it incredibly troublesome that your informant seems to be selecting information specifically designed to turn you against me. From the sound of it, you spoke to him before meeting me at the Lake of Rage; that was after the mission as well. And yet he didn't tell you about my meeting with that woman before - rather, he focused on telling you about my past and making me sound as dangerous as possible, and he's only just now telling you about this promotion, as though it's another reason to not trust me. Why is that, do you suppose?"

Kimblee's voice was cold, but civil; there wasn't any overt anger present, at least. His expression, as well, was calm - displeased, certainly, but calm. Losing his composure here wasn't an option, regardless of exactly where this conversation led; the location had been selected at least partially to ensure that, on both of their parts - it would hopefully keep her from causing a scene, and he couldn't simply leave the situation regardless of how much he might want to.

"....I don't know."

And she didn't; not really. In reality, Descole's visits hadn't been asked for, but they were certainly not unwelcome, and he was yet to tell her anything untrue, from what she'd seen. But she couldn't deny Kimblee had a point.

"But all the information is true, isn't it?"

Kimblee sighed a bit at that. "You and I both know that's beside the point, Miss Altava; the way information is given is just as important as the information itself. Given your affinity for puzzles and logic games, I think you would understand that."

"...well, why would they be trying to warn me off you?"

Taking another sip of wine, Emmy waits patiently for Kimblee's answer. She wants to understand as much as him, but she also wants to know where Descole is coming from.

One of these two is in the right; she just has to find out who.

The 'Miss Altava...' flashing though Kimblee's mind at that couldn't have been any clearer if he'd spoken it aloud.

"Do you genuinely expect me to know that? You haven't even told me who this person is."

"I just want to know if you can think of any reason why someone would want to...I don't know, get me away from you. Because I don't...I don't know."

The arrival of the food was perfect timing, but Emmy had almost lost her appetite. However, the smell of the steak (with its mushroom and garlic jus!) was divine, and she soon picked up her fork.

"This is so confusing."

"Again, Miss Altava, I can't say that I know."

Kimblee paused for a moment, toying with the utensils a bit for a moment while he thought things over; his expression was tight, frustrated, though his voice was calm when he spoke again.

"Have I done something wrong? You seem completely unwilling to consider that this other person may have something personal against me for some ridiculous reason, or that they may have some sort of ulterior motive in mind - rather, you're asking me repeatedly what I might have done to cause this, as though it's completely impossible that this other individual may be in the wrong. I don't understand what I've done."

"You haven't done anything, I'm just seeing if you had any hints you could offer me."

Maybe she should have had some hint coins handy. They usually tended to work a bit better in these sorts of situations. Sighing for what felt like the hundredth time, Emmy ran her fingers through her hair once again.

"I'm not unwilling to consider the fact that this other person could have something to do with it; I wouldn't be very good at my job if I didn't consider all the possible angles, Mr Kimblee. You just happen to be available now, so I'm seeing if there's any information you think could help. There obviously isn't, so I'll move on."

Now she was getting annoyed. Brilliant. Picking up her steak knife, she neatly sliced off a bite-sized chunk, taking a bit more pleasure in cutting the meat than she really should have.

The silence fell abruptly after that, lingering for quite some time - time in which that steak was quite possibly the most fascinating thing on this planet or any other, what with how picky he was being about cutting it; when he finally did speak again, his voice was quiet, and he kept his eyes focused low on the table as opposed to her face.

"It was a genuine question, Miss Altava, not anything intended as an accusation; I've had...problems, with knowing how to respond to difficult situations in the past - I've been told my responses are often inappropriate, and I honestly don't always realize. If it was possible that I had hurt you without realizing, then I wanted to know so I could rectify the situation. That's all."

And that was entirely, if technically, very true; the inappropriate responses were usually just...far more offensive than anything that may have happened here.

The silence was long, and it was painfully awkward; Emmy focused on buttering the small roll that had been provided, neatly cuttting off a piece and chewing silently as she tried to ignore how quiet the table had become. Maybe she should have more wine.

As Kimblee began to speak, Emmy still didn't raise her eyes, but she was listening. When he finished, she shook her head.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped at you, but...."

But what? Oh, it wasn't worth mentioning.

"Look, I'll try to find out what the motives behind my informant's choice of information are, but I can't guarantee they'll be very forthcoming, or if they even have a motive at all. I certainly don't know what it is."

Because she didn't, really. Descole was still a puzzle to her; one she wasn't quite sure how to solve correctly. It had been a while since she'd had one so fascinating, at least.

"I just want you to...try and communicate with me a bit more. About anything related to that Team, Mr Kimblee; there was an attack on one of our members recently, so it sounds like the team is getting more aggressive."

'The team' seemed to be the best way to refer to Team Rocket; best to not risk anyone over-hearing. Who knows? One of the affluent people sitting around them could be the leader!

"I heard about that, actually; the incident at the Center in Olivine City?" Kimblee finally looked up at her then, his gaze questioning. "Do you have any information on who may have carried it out? Because honestly, there was nothing regarding that sort of thing that ever reached me; can you even be sure that it was carried out by the organization at all, and not a specific individual with reason to act out on their own?"

"That would make sense if the victim wasn't Lightning. After the release of that list and the fact that she's such a high profile target? It's far too convenient for me to brush it off as a random attack."

Taking another sip of wine, Emmy tried to force the worry from her face.

"She could have died, Mr Kimblee. These people aren't playing around-"

....wait a minute...a Pokemon Center, wait-

"....Mr Kimblee, out of curiousity; what Center were you working in when I contacted you? Was it Olivine, by any chance!?"

Kimblee actually didn't seem fazed by that at all; he'd expected it, really.

"I'll thank you to watch your accusations, Miss Altava - but no, it certainly wasn't Olivine. There were entirely too many people in that city for me to be comfortable working there; I'm a soldier, not a healer, and when it comes to normal jobs outside of the military, I had never worked a day in my life besides. I took the job because the pay was good, but I wasn't about to do so in a place that highly populated, where I would have a good amount of contact with patients. I went up north again, where it's much less densely-populated and business, as it were, would be slow - I'm not about to take lives into my hands with no idea of what I'm doing."

He toyed with the knife a bit between his fingers before returning to cutting at the steak with it; really, he was doing more of that than he was eating it, but he couldn't exactly say he cared terribly much.

"I'm not denying that it was possibly someone within the organization. What I'm saying is that this particular attack was the work of individuals; there have been no orders issued to make a move against Miss Farron. Nothing official has been stated one way or the other in regards to what we're supposed to do about those on that list - and since my partner is on it, believe me, I'm paying attention to it.

You need to remain calm, Miss Altava - believe me, I won't do anything that will allow harm to befall Isaac or yourself, or anyone else on that list."

With a soft cry of frustration, Emmy ran both her hands through her hair and tried to, as Kimblee said, remain calm.

"Mr Kimblee, I wasn't trying to accuse you, I just wanted to see if perhaps you saw anyone suspicious on the off-chance you were working at Olivine. Why are you being so defensive? I have no reason to accuse you of anything. You're acting like I'm...I don't know, interrogating you for some sort of crime."

Frowning, Emmy looked to the side and took another sip of her wine. At this stage they'd have to order another bottle.

"...think about it logically, Miss Altava. I'm in the organization, and we all generally know of each other; had I been in the area, seen anyone from that organization, and yet not said anything about it or warned Miss Farron, that would make me an accessory."

He didn't sound angry, however, nor was he being condescending about it; it was simply a statement, and he paused for a moment once it was out there.

"We both need to relax, I think; this has been hard on both of us, and it shows."

"....you're right."

Sighing, Emmy slowly ate another piece of her steak. Her appetite was slowly waning, but it felt rude to leave such expensive food. Besides, it did taste incredibly good. She tried not to think about just what kind of creature she was eating.

"I'm just....sick of all this. I want to....I don't know, run away to Kanto and get away from it all. I haven't seen much of the place but it looks nice enough."

Smiling softly, looking off to the side, she swirled her wine slowly, watching the way the liquid slid around the inside of the glass.

"But the Professor certainly wouldn't approve of that. He wouldn't run away."

"Well, whether the Professor would approve or not, I can't say I blame you - really, at this rate, I'd be more than willing to join you." Kimblee's tone had softened quite a bit, however; he smiled slightly, shifting his gaze out the window toward the sea. "I suppose, for the time being, we'll have to settle for Cianwood, won't we?"

Edited (PAST...TENSE...) 2012-06-27 20:34 (UTC)

"Cianwood would be lovely, Mr Kimblee."

Emmy also shifts her gaze over to the ocean, before smiling back at her dining partner.

"It should give me some good material for the second volume of your album!"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

If I'm not the type of guy you'd like to circumvent, just remember not to love me when I disappear

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject